Locked Doors
by Kaz Gemcity
Summary: Locking a door means that you don't want anyone to enter the room behind the door. It means that you have something to hide, something to protect, or something you don't want other's to see. Sometimes it means all three, and someone may be coming for it.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N- I just had to do another Burn Notice. Get used to it._**

_As a spy you learn to deal with stress. You eat, you sleep, you review the past, present, and future tense of every verb in every language you know. You pay constant attention to your surroundings. Like your life depends on it. Because sometimes, it does._

I spun around quickly. Footsteps followed me into the dark alley. I was being followed. I wasn't even on an op. I cursed Dan. He had just been assigned my new handler. Not something I was completely happy about. But then, I hadn't been happy about anything in a while. Leaving Fi in Dublin hadn't been easy. It was harder than leaving Sam in Belfast.

_Spying is covert. And illegal. That's why you turn assets. Like Sam. She was a thief and things moved fast between us. But no matter what, I knew deep down that she was just an asset. Fiona was trigger happy. Fiona was IRA. Fiona was dangerous. Fiona was more than an asset and she knew it. But you can't bring baggage like that with you. You have to leave it all behind, no matter what the cost._

"Calm down, Michael!" The irish accent fell on my ears. It was Fiona.

"Damn it, Fiona!" I said, not bothering with my own accent.

"What, are you in the middle of a mission?" She asked, like she didn't know that I had been out to get dinner. Like she didn't know that I worked alone and now was the perfect time to talk.

_When you can't tell the truth, when the truth isn't working for you, when you don't like the truth, you can always lie. It has worked for ages. Not telling the truth also works pretty well for getting rid of the woman who is stalking you..._

"Yes, Fiona. I am in the middle of something!" She didn't believe me.

"Can I help?" She asked.

"No."

"Please?"

"No." I started to walk away.

_Most of the time. Sometimes they know better and just keep stalking you._

She continued to follow me, knowing that, as a spy, I was vastly unable to stand still and let people follow me. I spun around quickly and without warning, my fist hitting her arm in a warning shot. She backed out of the range of my limbs a, happy to nimbly avoid my blows all night, though it was not what she had planned. A smile graced her face and I was shocked to find a similar one on mine. I couldn't remember the last time that I smiled.

_Sometimes your own actions surprise you. You could have the best training and have the best poker face, but when a pretty woman with an obsession for explosives wants to follow you around town and then to your bedroom, you smile. And you do what you shouldn't, like let her get a foothold in your psyche._

"Was that so hard, Michael?" She demanded walking closer to me, trailing her fingers over my chest and around my back as she skipped in circles around me. She stopped moving when she was in front of me again. Fiona wrapped her arms around my neck an stood on the tips of her toes. Even with her four inch wedges, I was still almost a foot taller than Fiona.

"Maybe." I said, leading down and kissing her.

_Loving someone is an action of trust. Trust that you should only extend to a certain few people. Family, friends, no one else. Love is the most perfect action of trust and when it happens, you never want to let it go._

"We should not stay outside in an alley if we are going to do this." Fiona told me, pulling me by the hand to the apartment over a small shop, where I was staying.

By the time we made it to the bed, there we very few articles of clothing on our bodies.

By midnight, only a few hours later, the thin white sheet was on the floor.

We had fallen asleep. I was woken by a sharp pain in my thigh. Fiona was woken by my surprised scream.

"What the bloody hell?" Fiona demanded. Looking at me. I swing my leg over the edge of the bed and smiled.

"I think I just got shot." I said, looking at the small hole in the window pain.


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N- Still nothing new to say. Come find me on twitter and archiveofourown, if you haven't heard that news yet. The respective screennames are on my profile, so if you want the latest news about my stories before I write/update them. _**

_As a spy, things stop surprising you. After going undercover as a Russian armsdealer with a slight obession for Italian masterpieces, getting shot in New York stops being something new. _

"You say that as though it's happened before." Fiona said, tearing off a piece of the sheet and tying it about an inch about the bullet wound. I flinched as she pulled the knot tight.

"It has. There's a med kit under the sink in the bathroom." I said.

I ground my teeth, but managed to keep from shouting out as Fi dug the bullet out of my leg, then sterilized and wrapped the injury.

"Thanks." I siad, taking a deep breath and standing up. It hurt, but I could manage.

"Umm, you should probably rest before you try to go anywhere, Michael." Fiona told me, being unusually protective.

"I gotta find out who just shot me, Fi. I'll be fine." I answered, limping as I gathered my clothes. She shook her head then followed suit,

"Fine. But I'm coming with you. You're in no shape to go all "Michael-Westen" on someone." I rolled my eyes, but didn't disagree.

"We should probably start..." I began, opening the door. I froze when I saw the man standing in the hallway.

He was tall and lanky. And he has a sniper in his hand.

"Hello Mr. Westen. Nice to meet you." He pointed to my leg.

"Sorry about that. My name is Dylan Jefferson."

"Well, Mr. Jefferson, I think we should talk." I said, before I punched him in the nose.


End file.
